Hippocratic Oath
by Rose Eclipse
Summary: In a world where the "good doctor" does not exist, Mohinder Suresh is the cold, ruthless, and calculating scientist who rules Primatech with an iron fist.
1. Chapter 1

"_What a piece of work is a man, _

_How noble in reason_

_How infinite in faculties, in form and moving _

_How express and admirable_

_In action how like an angel_

_In apprehension how like a god! _

_The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals_

_And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? _

_Man delights not me—nor woman neither_

_Though by your smiling you seem to say so."_

-Hamlet, Act II Scene II

A-A-A

A-A-A

There is a blood-curdling scream that comes from the Training Room.

The small red light on Mohinder's desk beeps the rapid alarm. At once he drops the pen he's been writing with and grabs the taser. He tears out of his office and runs down the corridor towards the source of the problem. Sure enough, it's a three-way brawl: Eden, Doyle, and Knox are all at each other's throat. Specifically, Eden is trying to get Knox to strangle Doyle, while Doyle wants Eden to smash her brains out with a chunk of concrete.

"Lights!" Mohinder orders aloud.

_WOOOSH!!!_

The harsh blinding white lights flood the training room, temporarily disarming the inmates. They have to throw their arms over their eyes to protect themselves.

This gives the doctor a moment of opportunity. Mohinder aims the taser at Doyle, who lets out a gurgling cry upon touching the searing shock of pain. He then whirls on Knox and with one swift kick of his foot, nearly cracks the base of Knox's skull. The ex-convict slumps to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Mohinder stares at the two unconscious bodies on the ground and shakes his head in disgust.

_Cretins_, he thinks to himself. _They never think these things through_.

What a pity, especially after their recent drilling sessions. He almost had them sufficiently developed into suitable working recruits. He hooks the taser onto his belt and watches Eden rise to her feet.

Eden's face is nearly white with fear as she hurls herself against him. "Oh god!" she gasps, fingers curling in tightly to his lab coat. "Dr. Suresh, thank goodness you arrived just in time."

"Indeed," he replies curtly, placing a hand on the small of her back. "It looks like you weren't ready to handle them after all."

Eden looks up at him and he is amazed at the fragile beauty of her pale face. Her eyes are brimming with tears. "Please, doctor…I beg of you…no more fighting. I can't handle it any longer," Eden chocks out.

She watches him brush a lock of dark hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear in a suave gesture. It frightens her how much power he welds over them. Dr. Suresh is one of the few people who can resist her words…even without the Haitian nearby. While fear and doubt can paralyze even the strongest of men, Mohinder Suresh is immune to such petty emotions.

She finds herself looking into glistening eyes of onyx beauty; dark, sensual, and dangerous. His eyes are windows to an unknown realm of suspense and mystery. No matter how many times Eden looks into his eyes, she can never comprehend the vast amount of control he welds over people like her.

"I must admit, I was a bit disappointed in your performance," he chides her.

Eden bites her lip and lets the defense trail off. She averts her eyes downward, ashamed of herself for not living up to his standards. "I practiced so hard these past weeks…I, I promise I'll do better next time."

A warm hand cups her chin and tilts her head up sharply. She gazes back into the liquid black eyes and feels a shiver run down her spine.

"My error. I forced too much upon you," the doctor answers. But she can't tell if he's berating himself or insulting her capabilities. But then he gives a small sigh and nods. "I'll give you another chance at the end of the month. But Eden, you must promise me that you'll make progress. Otherwise I'll have to replace you."

She swallows the lump in her throat and nods her head. "I understand."

He leans forward until their foreheads are touching. Eden's skin feels soft and smooth against him. He gives himself a moment to inhale the scent of her hair. Like Eden, it is something fragile and delicate…like a cherry blossom. It's tempting but not enough to put him off guard. He places both hands on her shoulders in a firm grip which forces her to look him in the eye.

"There there, Eden," he assures her. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you."

It's a lie and Eden knows it. He's hurt her before in ways that she wants to forget. The painful pinpricks on her arms and back are proof of the infliction he's put her through for disobedience. Sleepless nights drowned in pills and injections have been Eden's greatest nightmares. And at the end of every terrible dream is that doctor.....always waiting, always calculating and watching her.

When his lips touch hers Eden knows better than to resist. She goes limp as he winds his arms around her and presses into the small of her back. His mouth is warm but it does little to soothe her mind or body. It's just an order of the flesh, something to keep her in balance and check. So Eden obeys like a steadfast puppet on strings and lets his lips wander from her mouth down to her chin.

It's only when she feels one of his hands brushing against her thigh does Eden recoil in alarm. "No!" she protests in a shriek. Eden pushes herself out of his embrace.

The doctor's hand whips out and strikes Eden across the face.

_WHACK!!!_

The cracking blow echoes inside the room. Eden brings a hand to her face, too shocked to speak. A harsh red bruise has already started to form on her skin.

"Who are you to refuse me?" Mohinder asks her in a cool monotone voice. "Who are you to refuse _anything_ I offer you?"

Mohinder strides past her and walks out of the Training Room, slamming the door behind him.

It is only when Eden has been returned to her cell does she finally let down her guard. She throws herself onto the bed and seizes the dingy gray sheets between her fingers, sobbing to her heart's content.

A-A-A

The Training Room may have been a disappointment but the Interrogation Room proves to be more successful for Dr. Suresh's liking.

Mohinder turns on the video camera that sits on his desk. He goes into the room where a man sits strapped to a chair in the center of the tiled floor. His hands are bound behind him with cable wire. His feet dangle helplessly on the ground.

_Click clack click clack._

The sound is efficient as a clock ticking but it's just the soft tapping of Mohinder's leather shoes on tiles. He leans against the wall with hands pressed behind his back.

"You've got an unusual background, Mr. Linderman. And that's quite a compliment coming from someone who's had years of experience in the field," says Mohinder.

The man, naked and bruised, lifts up his weary face. His white hair is matted with grime and blood stains his swollen lips. "And you, Mohinder Suresh are wasting your time," Linderman snarls. His voice creaks with pain.

"I think not. Your accelerated success in business and science has proven the superiority of chosen people with abilities. Isn't that what you praised for years alongside Nathan Petrelli's election campaign? Isn't that the better road as opposed to choosing a life of meaning or happiness?"

Linderman wheezes out a gasping cough before speaking again. "Most men choose meaning _or_ happiness. But you….you choose a life of damnation."

"It seems that we have a disagreement," Mohinder counters him. He starts to take a slow circle around Linderman. "My current research and plans for the future are a flawless combination of joy and value. Essentially, this could be God's hidden plan to man's purpose in life."

Mohinder rocks back and forth on his heels. "Come come, Linderman. We are men of intellect. Tell me if you still believe in a Supreme Being and His divine plans. Or are you really an atheist, a heretic at heart? I suppose any man would doubt God's existence if he'd been pushed past the extreme. It's happened before, you know. The eternal question of why God allows suffering in this world…."

Linderman leans forward, his bullet-gray eyes blazing with rage. "If there is a God, He did not intend for this to be so."

"You should have thought about that many years ago."

"I wasn't planning on annihilation!" Linderman shouts. He strains in the chair but the cables bind him tightly. "A few of the lesser ones, yes, I could see purpose in removing a few inferior people. But even you've taken things to the far extreme, Suresh. Without guidance or experience, you'll destroy this world and everything it along with yourself."

Undaunted, Mohinder glances down at his nails for inspection. "And what will you have me do? Dissolve this entire Company? Undo everything I've done the name of my father?"

"Oh, you did not do this for Chandra. He'd be rolling over in his grave if he knew how his son was mucking things up: slaughtering people right and left, kidnapping and exploiting for your own interest," Linderman growls. "But if you'd just listen to me for a moment-"

"Ah, there's the rub," Mohinder cuts him short. "You're trying to play me for a fool and get yourself an 'out of jail' card. I should have known better."

"I'm trying to _help_ you!" Linderman barks.

Mohinder snaps his fingers for attention. The door swings open and a woman walks in. Long legs in leather boots stride across the floor with the precision of a soldier. The v-neck of her black dress plunges down to her navel revealing a generous view of bosom and flesh. Despite the alluring attire, there is something cruel and taunting about the wide sensual mouth and piercing eyes.

She settles one hand on her waist and looks at Mohinder. "Yeah?"

"I see we're not going to get anywhere with Linderman. I have decided to turn the matter over to your hands, Jessica." He points to a tiny video camera lodged into one corner of the room.

"Just enjoy yourself. There's 6 hours of film time on this," the doctor replies. He touches her on the shoulder before exiting the room.

"Oh I will," Jessica smirks. She glances back at Linderman like a cat eyeing a tiny mouse. Jessica seizes a whip that hangs from the wall and cracks it in the air. It sounds like thunder crackling down from the sky, the wrath of hell waiting to strike.

"God in heaven," Linderman murmurs.

"Who needs God when you've got me?" Jessica grins. She towards Linderman while brandishing her whip.

A-A-A

Mohinder's next stop is the Observation Lab. It's very close to the Interrogation Room so he turns on the radio to drown out the piercing cries of Linderman. For a moment he almost recoils in retribution but quickly squelches the thought. Nikki's lengthy report filled him in on the risk Linderman had posed to her domestic life while Jessica lavished details about the businessman's true intentions. The Company couldn't risk jeopardizing its future on one man's fanatic ideals about salvation and redemption.

_Such a threat had to be disarmed_, Mohinder had said at the time. He's not a man to go back on his word.

The radio has tuned into the classical hour. It's "Belle Notre" from the New York Symphony Opera and one of his favorite pieces. The pleasant sounds of violins and cellos are soothing to Mohinder's nerves.

"I don't know how you can listen to that stuff," drawls Gabriel Gray from inside the lab. He's bent over a microscope with headphones shoved into his ears. Mohinder can hear the blaring beat of rap even through the tiny speakers.

"And I don't know how you can tolerate pop music. It's enough to give any man a migraine," Mohinder retorts. The two young men exchange a brief laugh while Gabriel pulls out the headphones. He gets up and shakes Mohinder's hand.

"You've got to see what I'm working on here." Gabriel motions to his corner of the lab, "It's the anatomy of trochlear nerve. This one's from a 42 year old man we studied last week."

Mohinder bends over the microscope for a closer look. "The one with excess cartilage production?" he asks with keen interest.

"Yes, that's the one who could bend his body at will. I've put in the autopsy already and after separating different segments of the brain, the results have been successful."

"Fascinating," Mohinder says. He rubs his hands together in excitement. "You've managed to isolate these cells so quickly. It's a breakthrough in modern science." He looks up at Gabriel and gives the young man a friendly slap on the back. "I don't know how we'd manage without you, Gabriel."

"Neither do I," Gabriel nods to his best friend. He looks back on the last two years of his life with a sense of destiny and relief.

A-A-A

"_Time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn."_  
**-**Delmore Schwartz

Two years ago:

_When Mohinder found Gabriel Gray he was trapped in a humdrum weary routine. He repaired watches in his father's modest shop in Brooklyn and was doing little else with himself._

"_Look at you," Mohinder chastised the watchmaker. "Your life is a helpless blur of coke bottle glasses and a meager salary. You're living like Clark Kent, Mr. Gray. And it's time you learned to be more like Superman."_

_Gabriel snorted. "All my life my mother's been constantly nagging at me to become something better. Why should you be any different?"_

_Mohinder drew up a chair and stared directly into Gabriel's face. "Because you are special. You just need to find your own niche."_

_Gabriel eyed him cautiously. "How am I special? I just repair watches."_

"_A much underestimated talent, Gabriel." The urgency of Mohinder's voice was beginning to interest Gabriel. He could feel the attention of this newcomer feeding into his soul and gradually bringing him to life. _

"_The complications within a tiny mechanism such as a watch are fascinating but pale in comparison to the mechanisms of the human body. Haven't you wondered what secrets lay beneath our very skins? It would be a pity to let such a brilliant mind of intellect as yours go to waste, Mr. Gray."_

_Mohinder mused aloud as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, yes, I must teach you everything I know. A man so precise and efficient in his labors is surely destined for greater things."_

_He spoke with such animation that Gabriel was swiftly drawn into the doctor's plan. "Are you saying that you can help me find my destiny?"_

"_I'm certain I can, Mr. Gray. If only you'll permit me that opportunity."_

_Gabriel folded his arms on the repair table and looked Mohinder squarely into the eye. "Okay, I'm game. But what's in it for you?"_

_Mohinder's eyes flashed keenly and a broad smile spread over his face._

"_I want you to work with me."_

_It was Mohinder who awakened Gabriel's hunger and Mohinder who kept that hunger almost within reach of satiation--but never fully satisfied. If Gabriel would get everything he wanted then he might turn away and succumb to the darkness, the cruel instincts that can drive a man into oblivion. He'd spiral downward instead of making uphill progress. _

_Mohinder knew that. He took extra precautions to keep Gabriel on as his right hand man and reward him lavishly for his accomplishments. Gabriel wouldn't even think twice about betraying Mohinder. He'd sooner put a bullet into his own head than try to remove his best friend from the picture. _

_Mohinder was the spiritual compass that pointed Gabriel in the right direction. _

A-A-A

That was 2 years ago. Now the dorky watchmaker had become more than a man.

He has become a _successful_ man.

Together with Dr. Suresh, Gabriel Gray has brought the so-called "Company" to its knees and conquered it with an iron grip. Even people who were unaware of the supernatural abilities of fellow human beings would feel the wrath of the doctor if they dared to get in his way. Executions were carried out swiftly and efficiently. Gabriel Gray oversaw all the autopsies and most of the medical work in Primatech. He had already been gifted with "intuitive aptitude" and a natural knack for knowing how things worked but under Mohinder's supervision, Gabriel was now on par with the best brain surgeons in the country.

Intelligence and resources also brought a new blessing: appeal.

No more combing his hair into a flat black rug on the top of his head. Now a light brown fringe swept across Gabriels's brow revealing his sharp but handsome features. Gone were the thick awkward glasses. Now a sleek pair of designer spectacles sat upon the bridge of Gabriel's nose. They cost a fortune but Dr. Suresh had them specially made of a titanium blend that could withstand even the feistiest night romp. Gabriel theorized the glasses had an aphrodisiac ability on women. Ever since he's worked for Mohinder, they can't take their eyes off him.

A-A-A

As Gabriel cleans up what's left of the brain material on his tray, a scream fills the air. The doctor comes out of a room humming "Belle Notre" on key.

"What is it?" he asks Mohinder.

"Jessica is working on Linderman, that's all. Though I haven't decided what we should do with him and it's beginning to concern me." He stops humming long enough to press a hand to his mouth in deep thought.

Gabriel notices the doctor is concerned about their options. He dislikes seeing his friend in even a minor state of agitation. So he selflessly offers his assistance.

"What choices do we have?"

"Jessica wanted him dead but Nikki resurfaced long enough to request prison for life. I suggested just enough physical pain to render him unconscious and then tossing him out onto the street. It would be a bit of poetic irony to know the former billionaire would now be on food stamps for the rest of his life. Although there is option number three…though we'd have to get Micah Sander's permission."

"Nikki's kid? What can he do?"

"Synthesize arrest warrants on all the police computers across the country. Linderman would be arrested in under ten minutes." Mohinder folds his arms across his chest in approval and waits for Gabriel's feedback.

"I don't think prison is a sufficient punishment," Gabriel answers slowly. "After all, Linderman used Nikki Sanders and some of our other best people for his personal gain. That's a terrible crime."

There is another crack of the whip followed by howling cries from Linderman. Mohinder reaches for the radio and cranks up the volume until Mozart blocks out the screams.

"Ah, sweet revenge and turnabout is fair play," Gabriel nods.

"Of course," the doctor nods. He glances at Gabriel and his expression changes. "Do you think you could do something with what's left of Linderman if we don't have him executed?"

A playful grin tugs at Gabriel's lips. "Either way, I can't wait to start picking on his brain." He's thrilled at the chance to dissect a new power. The doctor is always careful to select only the very best people for Gabriel's experiments. "Besides, whatever I don't use can be helped on the garden begonias."

"Very funny." Mohinder presses a button to tune into the room.

He hears wheezing in the background followed by Jessica's voice. "Yeah?"

"Mangle him if you want but leave his head alone."

"You're not gonna let him live, are you?" Jessica snarls.

The feeble voice of Linderman comes out. "Please…I beg of you…no more pain…"

"Gabriel is going to finish him off. You just have fun and leave his head intact."

A-A-A

Jessica emerges from the Interrogation Chamber an hour later. She tosses a bloody towel and the whip aside. A smug expression is on her face.

"Had fun, did we?" Gabriel inquires.

"Perfect." She plunges her hands into a sink of lukewarm water, turning it pink as she washes off the blood. "Go on ahead."

Gabriel adjusts his spectacles and walks into the room. Linderman's pulse is gone but true to her word, Jessica has resisted decapitation his head. Ah well, sooner or later Linderman would meet a tragic fate. It's all in day's work at Primatech. Gabriel slides on a rubber glove and using his sharp instruments, removes the head from the neck and places it onto an examination tray. It's a moment of delicate precision but he welcomes the challenge ahead.

Once at his desk, Gabriel gets to work. He begins to extract the outer layer of skin and work on the gray matter bellow. He's got the tissue isolated and is about to examine a slide under his microscope when a pair of cupped hands cover his eyes.

"Guess who," a light female voice teases. Gabriel pulls the hands away and spins around on his seat. The girl with sunlight hair smiles at him and pecks Gabriel on the cheek.

"Did you miss me, handsome?"

"More than even," Gabriel smiles. He grabs Elle by the hand and pulls her into his lap.

Elle whisks off his glasses and laid them on the table. "Mmmm, I missed you honey," she coos as she winds her arms around his neck. Elle starts kissing Gabriel but breaks it off after two seconds.

"Wait'll you see what I bought," she grins. Elle reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out a silky one-piece night dress. Gabriel runs his fingers through the pinkish material and tried to imagine it on Elle. Already he can feel the tightened strain in his pants. He wraps his arms around her and forces her up against the wall before pressing his mouth to hers. She tastes wonderfully of strawberries and champagne. Elle doesn't resist. If anything, she tilts her head back in a gesture of surrender to allow Gabriel to explore.

He gets up from his chair and starts pushing them against the wall when his phone rings.

Gabriel pushes Elle off with a rasping growl of irritation and grabs the phone.

"Hello?" he grumbles in response. Gabriel doesn't disobey Mohinder's orders but he's not in the mood to be bothered right now. He's hungry for Elle and that goddamn rose slip dress.

"_Hello Gabriel. Put this on speaker phone. I want to speak to Ms. Bishop."_

With a groan of restraint, Gabriel sets the phone down and pushes a button. Mohinder's voice blares over the intercom. _"Elle, how was your mission to Scotland?"_

"Lovely." She sits on the desk and crosses one long leg over the other, revealing the attractiveness of a short tartan skirt.

"I got the file on our newest prodigy." She flips open a green folder and begins to read aloud. "Michael McCreedy, age 18. Born and raised in Glasgow. Devoted Catholic and choir member. Tenor, I think."

"_What's his genetic marker?"_

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Only he can grow 3 inch razors from his fingertips and severe a person's arteries. He has problems retracting them and is afraid he'll become a wanted criminal."

"_Poor Michael,"_ he says. _"Tsk tsk, sounds like another teenager terrified of his own body."_

"Yup, that's him," Elle announces. She hops off the desk and saunters over to the coffee maker.

"He's a sweet little boy, Mohinder. You should've seen those big blue eyes of his when I found out he caused four accidental deaths. I asked McCreedy a few questions and he started crying like a baby. The kid said his powers are some form of temptation and he'll be damned for eternity."

Elle throws four lumps of sugar into her coffee cup and stirs it with a spoon.

"_Well well….we must call McCreedy back and tell him we're the angels he's looking for."_ Mohinder's voice turns up with approval. _"Gabriel, do we have another facility room available?"_

"Sure. Now that Linderman's gone I think we can fix it up," Gabriel responds.

"_Excellent. I want it cleaned out and filled with adolescent pleasures: stereo, plasma TV, electric guitar, CDs, and DVDs. Anything that would put Michael McCreedy at ease."_

Elle pours a generous splash of cream into the coffee and watches the black bubbly substance lighten into an appealing rich brown liquid. She brings it to her lips and sips the creamy beverage. "You want to make him feel at home?"

"_Why not? With an ability like that on our side I'd say we've got another mercenary ready for hire."_

"I'll get on it in ten minutes," Gabriel promises him. He looks up at Elle who is sipping her coffee and eyeing him in a very cute and puppy-like manner. "Uh, on second thought make that half an hour."

"_I'll give you until tomorrow. I'm on the next flight to Washington D.C.,"_ Mohinder informs them. _"While I'm gone, you're in charge Gabriel. Over and out."_

The speaker phone crackles and clicks to signify Mohinder's departure.

"You heard him," Elle smirks. "He said you're in charge. So what are you going to do?"

"What _are_ we going to do?" Gabriel asks. Elle twirls a lock of hair around her finger and bats long dark eyelashes at him. Then she grabs the dress and gestures for Gabriel to follow her into the back room.

He complies.

A-A-A

The Oval Office is a place of absolute solemn respect and dignity. Nathan knows that countless men before him have stood in that place and made decisions that altered the course of history. He should be delighted to walk in the shoes of those people but today he feels only regret and frustration.

From the moment that private jet appears on the landing strip and Dr. Suresh descends from the plane's metal steps, Nathan knows this means trouble. Mohinder never comes to him personally unless it meant a discussion of the most secretive matter.

There are the usual nuances, the damn security and checkpoints they have to go through until they are alone. But at least this was called in at the last minute so there's no flashing bulbs or annoying reporters to get in Nathan's way. He accepts Mohinder with a brief handshake and together they walk into the White House.

Mohinder refuses coffee, soda, and even a traditional cup of tea. He stares out of the window and admires the sparkling green lawns that grace the President's home. Behind him, Nathan sits in his leather-bound chair and waits for the bomb to drop.

"What is it that you want now, Suresh?"

The doctor wants to let the question hang in the air but he's pressed for time. So he makes his demands clear.

"Surgeon General."

"Impossible," says Nathan. "I can't push for nomination and don't forget the majority of the Senate must confirm-"

"You're stalling," Mohinder cuts him short.

"It's not that easy, doctor. It's one thing to want the rank and another thing to go forward in approval."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what could happen to the Public Health Service. What about the welfare of this country? Don't they deserve to know more before another killer virus threatens to cripple America's population?"

A hot flush creeps up Nathan's neck and causes him to rise to his feet. "For god's sake, Suresh! You could've stopped that virus before it infected half a million people!" he explodes.

"Could I?"

"500,000 families nearly petrified to death because their loved ones were quarantined in hospitals," Nathan vents on. "And you had the gall to wait eight weeks before revealing an antidote to the public."

Mohinder gives a shrug of the shoulders. "Power of publicity, Nathan."

"You bastard."

"So says the man who doesn't take my cautions seriously."

Mohinder places his palms upon the president's desk and looks him squarely in the eye.

"Now let me tell you what is going to happen. I will go public in my campaign to become surgeon general at the end of the month. If you attempt to resist my plans, the press will hurl a bloodbath of 'prejudice judgment' in your direction. They'll rant and rave how illustrious Nathan Petrelli of a blue-blooded family doesn't think a former taxi driver has the sufficient intelligence or right to hold any respectable position in the government."

He stands up straight. "You don't want to look like a narrow-minded fool, do you Nathan?"

Nathan is caught in the dilemma. Mohinder has deliberately placed him between a rock and a hard place, forcing Nathan to accept his limits. "Damn you, Suresh," he curses between his teeth.

"No, damn yourself. Nathan. The entire country watched your scandal with Nikki Sanders unfold on television. Disgrace doesn't befit a Petrelli at all. Don't make that same mistake twice."

The leather chair swivels to and fro like the pendulum of doom. If only Peter were alive…sweet sensible foolish but ever-so-faithful Peter. Nathan should have had more belief in his younger brother. But he always underestimated Peter and never realized how many lives his little brother had impacted until the day he died. A monument in upstate New York is a shallow acknowledgement in comparison to how much Nathan missed having his sibling around.

Nathan picks up a baseball that sits upon his desk and squeezes it gently to relieve stress. "If Peter Petrelli were here he'd get your head on straight," Nathan mutters.

"Your brother is dead." With that cruel comment, Mohinder flicks a speck of invisible dust off the sleeve of his jacket. "No thanks to you."

One last nail drives into the coffin. Nathan's hand grips the baseball harder until his knuckles grow white and his fist begins to shake with silent rage. All the while, Mohinder looks at him with an ever-so-patient face of serenity. It's so damn peaceful that it's driving Nathan mad with rage. He should call in security and have Mohinder thrown out of here by the scruff of his neck….

But no, that would never do. He needs Mohinder. They all do. Only Mohinder has the answers they need.

Nathan's responsibility is to mortgage his soul while his body goes on camera to be smiled and praised. As long as everyone believes in the President, Mohinder can go on doing as he pleases and Nathan can stay secure in his position as the most powerful man in the country. At least he's the 'most powerful' according to some people. Nathan knows better than to resist Dr. Suresh and his demands.

Reluctantly, he releases his grip on the baseball and sets it back into its crystal case on the desk. With a creaking jaw he asks Mohinder:

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Linderman is dead. I want all of his property and bank investments liquidated. The total monetary sum will be wired into my private account at Primatech."

The president looks like he's about to break down at last but Mohinder's lips pull back revealing a handsome smile of pearly white teeth, a smile that could match Nathan's charisma and charm.

"With no living relatives, it would only be suitable for Linderman to donate his estate to, shall we say….more worthy causes."

"Worthy causes, my foot," Nathan mutters under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President. Did you say something?"

"Yes I did! You've got the country fooled Suresh but you don't fool me. You don't know what it's like for us with these abilities, all these secrets and lies! You have no idea how we-"

"You're right," he counters Nathan with a harsh whirl of the head. "I don't know how you feel about it, how you manage to live from day to day with such a burden. I don't have the curse—or blessing--to contain such a power within me.

"But do you know what, Nathan? I don't need to. Because I have this." The doctor taps his temple with his index finger.

"My mind is too precious for you to lose. If the country found out I was assassinated or killed in a freak accident then the citizens would be thrown into a state of panic. They'd turn to you for answers. But you don't have them, Nathan. _**I **_do. Your strength comes from me."

Nathan slumps back in his chair, a conquered man at last. Mohinder watches his shoulders sag slightly as he exhales. A lesser human being would pour out a drink but Nathan's too rattled to even think about alcohol right now.

"I'll have my accountants bring up the Linderman estate next week," he responds feebly.

"Tomorrow," Mohinder corrects him.

"All right, tomorrow," Nathan rubs his brow wearily in defeat. "And I will inform the Senate that I've nominated you for the position at my next public speech."

"Excellent. I see we finally understand each other."

A-A-A

The sunlight is warm and soothing on Elle's face. She snuggles up against Gabriel's body, savoring the heat of his skin. She runs her fingers through his dark hair and takes in the tall trim figure that lingers beside her. They've just had a most fantastic night together and now Elle's slip dress has been discarded at the foot of the bed. The sheets lay in a tangled mess around them.

She lunges for him again and thrusts her arms around his waist. Gabriel is caught off guard by the seemingly harmless gesture of a hug. But a crackling sound causes Gabriel to arch his back sharply. Elle just sits back on the bed and giggles. Her fingertips crackle with electric blue energy.

Gabriel grabs her by the wrists and pushes her back into the pillows. He pretends to look mad at her. "You're trying to give me another erection or something?"

"Or something," she says. She rolls over and purrs happily as he begins to massage her back with the palm of his hand.

The wonderful interlude is cut short by the phone ringing. "Not again," Elle moans as she presses a pillow her head. "Tell your boss to shut it".

"No can do, princess." Gabriel hits the speaker phone button.

"_I want the new report on my desk at noon," _comes the doctor's sharp orders.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Gabriel implores. He knows he's pushing to Mohinder's limits but it's one of the few rare occasions when he can.

"_Fine. 7 AM sharp tomorrow morning,"_ the doctor relents. _"And Elle?"_

She rolls over on one side and looks at the phone with disdain. "Yeah?"

"_Try not to set the bedroom on fire this time."_

A-A-A

The next day Gabriel is feed, showered, and dressed for attention. He's still waiting for Elle who's taking her cracks at Eden in the Training Room. Gabriel and Mohinder have already placed bets on who's going to win. Gabriel has stacked all his force behind Elle but Mohinder suspects Eden will succeed in the long run.

Either way, someone is going to lose $50,000 by that afternoon.

"_Clairvoyance,"_ Gabriel reads off the computer. _"The ability to discern people who are not in the observer's presence."_

"My father had a file about a woman who possessed this ability but she died nine years ago," Mohinder says. He is preoccupied with filling a beaker with a glossy red liquid while they talk.

"Often it is misinterpreted as autoscopy, which is an 'out of body' experience suggested to occur when the ability possessor is asleep or in a trance. That is inaccurate. People with clairvoyance are wide awake and in control of their actions."

"Right. As you've been a professor of parapsychology in India, I'm sure you know about the studies of physic abilities and its human patterns. Now in the last six months based on the brain autopsies, I've come to realize that your theories may indeed hold solid."

Mohinder finishes filling up the beaker and carefully slides it into the cooling chamber. "Oh? And what's that?"

Gabriel pushes his glasses back up his nose with an index finger. "You were right. The physic ability is indeed stronger in the female."

"Good." Mohinder washes his hands at the sink. "Have you located our next potential person?"

"Yes but she's been in intensive custody ever since her parents died." Gabriel's fingers nimbly click on the keyboard. Mohinder reads the information on the screen over Gabriel's shoulder.

"A child," he concludes. "No doubt the offspring of two people possessing the genetic marker."

"I could see if she's of legal age," Gabriel jokes.

"Don't be vulgar," the doctor chastises him. "Where's her file?" Gabriel has barely extended his hand holding the green folder when it is swiftly removed from between his fingers.

Mohinder flips through the file, his eyes scanning the words in an alarming rate of speed-reading that leaves even Gabriel silenced in awe. He hopes later on they can have a hefty competition of Trivial Pursuit just to see who has collected more data in his head.

For now, the doctor's thoughts are preoccupied with the file.

"A human detector?" His voice goes up with interest. "Why not? Centuries ago, scientists tried to locate precious commodities from gold to water. Finding human beings is another step in progress. From this file's background, it seems that the child is quite intuitive about her abilities and has exercised her power on more than one occasion."

"We've got a problem. Another person on our list is her guardian," Gabriel warns him. "And he's got telepathy."

Mohinder's long tapering fingers lock together and he places them to his mouth in thought. "Yes, the cop from Los Angeles," he says at last. "I've run the tests on him before. Of course, he doesn't know anything about Primatech."

Matthew Parkman isn't too much of a threat to Mohinder. His file shows cases of dyslexia, insecurities, and a severed family. Personality shows the potential for a loving father but a constant insecurity about being unable to provide for a family and a slight mistrust of people with superior authority.

_He's a swaggering oaf_, Mohinder thinks to himself. _We just need to push him into his own corner._

"Do you want me to assemble a team?" Gabriel offers. "I can have Knox and Elle take him out before we move the girl to-"

"That won't be necessary," Mohinder says. "I'll meet them in person."

"Alone?" Gabriel's eyebrows arch up in surprise. "Are you sure, Mohinder?"

The doctor gives him such a hard look that Gabriel takes back the question in doubt. When Mohinder's mind is made up, he'll get his way sooner or later. All it takes is the right word at the right time.

A-A-A

_The next day:_

Matt and Molly are happily preoccupied in doing a jigsaw puzzle at the kitchen table when there is sharp knock at the door.

"Coming!" Matt calls, rising from the table and going to the door. Number 613 opens up revealing a young man with thick dark hair and a coffee-colored complexion. He is dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket. His attire may be casual but it's handsomely tailored and looks stylish on his athletic frame.

Molly leans her head out far enough to see the newcomer.

He gives a slight nod of the head and beings to speak. "Good evening. Is this the home of Office Parkman?" The voice is rich and polished. It speaks of warmer climates, of exotic places and darker mysteries.

"Yes it is."

The young man raises an eyebrow of keen interest. "No doubt the same police officer who heroically rescued nine hostages from Sloan Kettering Hospital last month! I read all about it in the papers."

The comment causes Matt to rub the back of his head in sheepish embarrassment.

"Aw, shucks. It really wasn't what it sounded like. I had a whole team working with me."

"Yes, but I was told it was your efforts that brought your mission to success. Please forgive me, I haven't introduced myself." The stranger offers a hand to Matt. "My name is Mohinder Suresh and I'm a geneticist with the Primatech Institute of Special Needs."

Matt's gaze goes from the doctor's hand back up to his face with careful scrutiny. But Mohinder continues in the same fluid voice. "I assure you that this visit is one of absolute personal interest. I have no wish to disrupt your privacy or invade your household."

He sounds so frank and eager that Matt berates himself for the earlier hostile look. "No no, it's all right. Please come in."

"Lovely place you have here," Mohinder says when he steps into the apartment. "How long have you been here?"

"Almost two years next October," Matt says. He gestures to the girl at the table. "And this is my ward, Molly Walker. Molly, this is Mohinder Suresh."

Had Matt been facing Mohinder, he would have caught a flickering blaze in the man's dark eyes like a hungry predator surveying its prey. But the blaze dies down within seconds and there is nothing dangerous for Matt to detect. Mohinder approaches Molly with the gentlest smile on his face.

"So nice to meet you, Molly." He takes a seat close to her at the table, knowing that the child will be examining him with juvenile intuition. But Mohinder has dressed and rehearsed to play the part to perfection.

The mild scent of his cologne is new to Molly but it's a pleasant fragrance. So is the crisp smell of his leather jacket. Those navy-blue sneakers must mean he likes to run and play sports, probably soccer or kickball. The pixie-eyed child grins back at him like a long time friend.

"Coffee?" Matt asks from the kitchen.

"Thank you, yes," Mohinder answers, not taking his eyes off Molly.

Within minutes, two cups of coffee are on the table and Molly has poured herself a glass of milk to join in the conversation. The geneticist begins an interesting discussion about his research with people who bear certain genetic markers and how the Primatech Program helps them develop abilities in a safe and caring environment.

"Of course, no one is forced to accept our organization and its policies," Mohinder explains. "We believe in the freedom of choice for each and every person."

Matt and Molly are soon won over by the sophistication of this newcomer and drawn into the eloquence of his words.

Especially Molly. His voice is smooth and calm and oh so immaculate with that British accent. It's like music to her ears when he talks. She's so glad he talks to her like an adult and doesn't try to dumb down his words as if she was two years old. Molly wonders if he might read to her "James and the Giant Peach" as well as Matt does.

Meanwhile, Matt tries to read Mohinder's mind and finds nothing but sincere thoughts—or so he believes. Mohinder has taught himself to repeat phases over and over again. He has nothing but Molly's best interest in mind.

The enchanted spell continues for several more minutes…..until two pinpricks of metal—seemingly appear out of nowhere—slice through the air and hit Matt and Molly straight in the back of their necks. They slump forward in their chairs. Matt's head hits the table but Mohinder rushes to catch Molly's head. He doesn't want her to be harmed at all. Mohinder cups the heart-shaped face in his hands with tenderness and strokes her cheek.

_So young…so helpless…_he thinks to himself.

"Well done, Claude," Mohinder calls out to the other room.

The gruff man in the black trench coat materializes out of the shadows.

"It's about bloody time," he grumbles as he switches the tranquilizer gun to his other hand. "Need any help?"

"No thanks. I've got a staff car that will be here in five minutes.

A thick wad of bills is pressed into Claude's hands, silencing any further objections he may have to the doctor. Claude has gotten what he wants and has no qualms until his next assignment. In half an hour he'll be drowning his sorrows at the nearest bar and not give a damn whatever happens to that kid or the man who's been watching her since her parents died.

To Claude, it's every man for himself.

A-A-A

Molly wakes up in a new room that is bright and airy but sterile from the flooding lights. The floor is lined with immaculate white tiles, so different than the thick green carpet in her Brooklyn home. She puts a hand to her forehead and feels it for a fever. Is she dreaming? Did she faint? Where are Matt and the nice stranger?

Molly lifts her head slowly so as to avoid any rush of dizziness. She pushes back the covers slowly, cautiously. The sheets are lavender, her favorite color. All four of the overstuffed pillows are embroidered with delicate white lace. There's even a quilt stitched in pretty bright colors spread across the bed.

She slides her tiny feet to the floor. They fall into a pair of dainty slippers that are just waiting for her on the carpet. Looking around, Molly notices the massive four-poster bed has been placed strategically in the center of the room. In one corner is a computer desk that is just the right size for her. In the other are various assortments of books, dolls, puzzles, games and toys. A mirror takes up the length of an entire wall.

The door clicks open and Molly jumps up as if she's pricked with a pin. The doctor walks in holding a clipboard to his chest. A white lab coat replaces his jacket. He sees the child looking at him, fearfully squeezing a pillow in her arms.

"Are you all right, my dear?" he inquires kindly.

"I, I think so," she answers feebly. Molly's big hazel eyes take in the vast room before resting back at Mohinder's spell-binding gaze.

"What am I doing here?"

"It's part of the program, Molly. We're sometimes asked by family members and loved ones to look in after those who can't take care of themselves. Dear me, you must have been in such a shock! But don't worry. We'll take care of everything. It's just that Matt had some very complicated business and he asked us to make certain you were safe while he was away."

Molly looks puzzled by this lengthy explanation. "But, but….Matt would've told me if something was wrong. He tells me everything!"

He smiles never falters. "I'm sure he does, Molly. Though in this case we'll have to make an exception."

A sudden shiver runs through Molly's small frame and tiny goosebumps form on her arms. She wants to trust this man but there's something about him that makes her begin to worry. He's nice….almost _too_ nice to be true.

"Are you cold?"

Molly watches the doctor take one of of her hands in his larger ones. The contrast of skin is astonishing; rosy peach against dark chocolate. His hand is so warm and soft while her skin is icy to the touch. He cradles her hand gently as if it was a wounded bird.

_Someone this nice can't be dangerous. He's not the kind of person that Matt warned me about_, Molly assures herself. Then why can't she believe it?

"You dear thing," he coos softly. He lifts her back onto the bed and wraps the quilt around her shoulders.

"They never keep the heat on long enough here. Just a moment."

Mohinder removes a remote control from his pocket and aims it at the ceiling. There is a gentle humming sound and Molly feels the heat pouring in from the air vents. Within seconds the room is a pleasant temperature.

"Feeling better?"

"A little," Molly admits. "But I'd like to go home now."

"That's not possible, Molly. Matt's not ready to take care of you now."

The doctor notices something shiny and pearl-like glimmer on the edge of Molly's eye, winking in the bright lights.

"Now now, Molly," he murmurs gently. He cups her cheek and brushes the tear away with a thumb before it can roll down her cheek. "There's no need to cry. Nobody is going to hurt you or force you to do anything you don't want to do. You'll have books to read and toys to play with and we'll make sure you lack nothing. Remember, it's just for a little while."

"And then will you send me home to Matt?" she asks in a feeble voice.

The velvety smile answers her as a hand softly strokes her hair. "As you wish, my dear."

A-A-A

Mohinder does stay long enough to read four chapters of "James and the Giant Peach" aloud until Molly's head begins to drop. She's almost leaning on his shoulder with exhaustion until she finally falls asleep and her breathing is soft and even. Mohinder sets the book aside and helps her back against the pillows. He removes a syringe from his lab pocket, the same red liquid he was working on before. Now he lifts Molly's arm up and with delicate precision, injects the serum into her arm. Molly doesn't even blink or twitch.

Mohinder makes sure that she's tucked in nice and warm under the covers and continues to sleep peacefully. He even bestows a gentle kiss upon her forehead before he leaves the room.

Once outside, Mohinder swipes a card through the security box and punches in the lengthy code. Maximum protection, of course. He doesn't want anyone or anything disturbing Molly's dreams.

Gabriel Gray is looking through the mirror glass with his arms folded across his chest.

"Really cute, Mo. I almost got cavities," he says in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You don't like Rohl Dahl?" Mohinder asks his friend.

"I don't like your methods. Listen, I'm all right when it comes to people condemned to the electric chair. But kids? C'mon, what do you need with the little tykes anyway?"

"Gabriel, you don't understand children," Mohinder sighs with a roll of the eyes. "They are bright sharp little things but you have to work with them, not against them. Molly just needs some coaxing in the right direction until we can get her to cooperate completely. Her potential is brilliant. I'll give Parkman enough credit for hiding her for so long."

"If you say so," Gabriel admits, giving in a little. "I still don't see why we couldn't put Parkman down once and for all with a bullet before bringing her here."

"It'd be far too messy and the girl would be traumatized."

"Hmmm, good point." That's all Gabriel has to say so he strolls off, hands in his pockets and whistling a jaunty tune. Mohinder is left to check at the sleeping figure of Molly. Only the bullet-proof glass is separating those two souls.

Dear sweet fairy of a girl!

_I must be getting sentimental_, Mohinder thinks as he strokes the window with his long fingers.

Of course Molly would probably weep a bit now and then when she realizes that Parkman cannot find her—let alone rescue her—from the Company. But all she needs is guidance. Under the watchful eye and hand of Dr. Suresh, she can progress into a successful Company cadet.

The child is asleep. As he hovers behind the glass, his thoughts are spinning fast into plans for her future. Oh, Molly is so dear and special to him. That's why she's going to be kept under lock and key, far away from everyone else's eyes.

"Don't worry," he murmurs to the sleeping child. "You're mine now. That's all that matters."

A-A-A

Mohinder's success is not only limited to science.

With the Pays De Caux casino in his power, Mohinder had already begun reworking the business into a more secluded and upscale resort. Gabriel's recent interest in building investments and Elle's flair for décor have helped renovate the place from basement to the top floor.

The results have been successful. Pays De Caux may not hold the glitter and glamour of larger casinos but it has more taste and elegance. The crowds are less boisterous, the wine is of a better quality, the pools are larger, and the sheets on the beds are the silkiest and most luxurious of all. All these changes haven't damaged business at all. If anything, conditions have improved. The rooms are booked for nearly two years in advancement.

While men in suits and women in gowns descend down the grand staircase, Gabriel is sitting in the lounge savoring a vodka martini. He always drinks in moderation and believes this is one occasion to celebrate. Several women are always looking at the man in the gray pinstripe suit but his mind is attracted elsewhere. The doors to the lawn part open and Elle glides forward. She's wrapped from shoulder to ankle in blue silk that shimmers in the moonlight. Her gown flutters in the evening breeze when she approaches Gabriel and sensuously folds herself up in the next chair.

"Where's the boss?" she inquires.

Gabriel points to the ceiling. "Last time I checked he was reading a book in his office."

Elle sighs and busies herself rearranging the sky-blue robes. "He's a smart guy but he can be so boring at times! Doesn't he do _anything_ for fun?"

"I don't know. Crossword puzzles? Matching socks?" Gabriel suggests.

The thought still nags him a bit as Elle drags him to the pool and changes into a black and white stripped bikini. Gabriel pulls off his shirt and comes in swimming trunks. He dives off the deep end and plunges into the pool, swimming towards Elle in strong deep strokes. Soon they are submerged in the aquamarine waters and kissing each other until lungs begged for oxygen and they have to resurface. Elle clings to Gabriel's body, her fingertips stroking at the tufts of dark hair spread across his chest.

His mind is still restless. He itches and scratches the thought, trying to make sense of it.

What on earth gives Mohinder Suresh any pleasure? Gabriel is almost stumped this time.

Exotic foods and lavish smorgasbords? Hardly. Yogurt and fresh fruit were perfectly adequate.

Designer shoes and tailored clothes? Unlikely. He wore the same favorite beige suit to business conferences and meetings.

Savory cocktails? Impossible. Liquor never passed his lips.

Roller coasters? Discos? Golf courses? Sports cars?

Women?

Gabriel pulls his head out of the water and rested his hands on the ledge. He is looking through the open doors where people have gathered to watch the craps table.

And then, almost by chance, two young people walk into the casino.

They're both tanned, lean, and must be in their late 20's. _Looks like South American blood,_ Gabriel guesses. The man is in a simple black suit. The girl is in a pretty pink dress and wears a cross that sparkles on a golden chain around her neck. He has his arm around her in a protective gesture. They both have worried faces as they try to avoid attracting the slightest bit of attention from the crowds of people around them.

Elle notices Gabriel's distraction and swims over to have a better look. "Who are they?"

"Don't know. They don't look like tourists to me."

Gabriel's cell phone rings upon instinct. He doesn't require caller ID to know who it is or what he wants.

"_Find out about them."_

A-A-A

Mohinder had seen them on his private security cameras. Usually he didn't pay attention to female guests but this one had caught his attention. She doesn't wear a wedding ring. But that man next to her could be her fiancée or a close relative.

She looks very pretty to Mohinder. Her shoulders are slim and elegant and that pink dress is very becoming to her figure. White pumps are on her dainty feet. She must be an excellent dancer, he thinks to himself.

Mohinder doesn't have to wait long. Gabriel shows up in the elevator with answers. He's still damp from the pool and wearing one of the hotel's fluffy white bathrobes.

"Well?"

Gabriel rubs his damp hair with a towel. "They're twins from the Dominion Republic. Maya and Alejandro Herrera. They actually want to meet you."

Mohinder tries to keep his cool but he cannot help tapping his fingers on the desk in an effort to contain himself. "Really?"

"Seems they've got a problem on their hands with the girl and they've spent most of their money trying to find you. Shall I send them up?"

"No," Mohinder replies quickly. "I'll come down to meet them."

There is a sigh coming down the other end of the corridor. "Gabriel," calls Elle in a sing-song voice. "When are you coming back into the pool?"

"Never mind this time." Mohinder waves a hand in the air. "Enjoy yourself, Gabriel. I'll handle this myself."

A-A-A

Ten minutes later, Mohinder comes downstairs to the casino lobby. He's dressed in his old beige suit but it still looks smart on him, especially when contrasted with a pale blue shirt.

"So nice to meet you," he replies upon seeing Alejandro Herrera. "You'll forgive me but my Spanish is rather poor."

"No, not at all señor. We are only too glad to meet you." Alejandro motions to the woman standing next to him. "This is my sister, Maya."

The dark-haired beauty wants to lower her eyes for the sake of modesty. After all, she's been taught not to fall into the trap of seduction. But the man before her nearly takes her breath away. Maya thought Dr. Suresh would be an old man with a withered face and weary eye. This young man is astonishingly handsome. The eye is lively with a passionate glint, the jawline sharp and commanding. His hair is thick and dark and forms soft curls around the face. A single strand lies rebelliously across his forehead, almost tempting her to reach out and brush it back into place.

"Maya," the doctor repeats. His lips move eloquently when he speaks. "What a pleasure to meet you." Ceremoniously he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. Her cheeks flush from the flattery.

"Please, señor. You must help us. We could not find anyone else who knows what to do about Maya," Alejandro begs.

Mohinder waved a hand around the casino. "Of course. But this isn't a suitable place to talk privately. Why don't we retire upstairs?"

A-A-A

Dr. Suresh appears so cultured and interesting as he pours out drinks for Maya and Alejandro. He assures them that Maya is not in any danger but praises them for taking affirmative action in trying to find him. If they agree to come to Primatech then he can have her enrolled into one of their programs and Maya will not pose as a risk to anyone for much longer. He also asks Alejandro if he'd like to examine the rest of the casino and would it be all right if Dr. Suresh spends a few minutes with his sister?

Alejandro is usually so overbearing that Maya can't get away from her brother for more than ten minutes. But the doctor's assurance is quite solid and the resort's beauty holds many offerings for a young man. Mohinder sends down one final message to Gabriel to make sure Alejandro is "preoccupied' for the next few hours. Maybe Elle's friends will know what to do with him.

After Alejandro leaves, Maya is offered to see view from the window. She comes closer to where the doctor is standing and peeps out at the magnificent scene.

"Oh..." she whispers quietly.

Maya is lost for words. She can see miles of land stretched out across the Nevada horizon where the sun dips behind the clouds. The formerly cloudless blue sky is now a deep purple tint and spotted with clouds of pale pink. A few stars begin to twinkle above them.

She sees doctor's reflection in the glass approaching her. She can feel the heat of his body when he stands behind her. Two hands rest on her shoulders and she feels prickles of pleasure running up and down her spine. It's been a long time since a man made her feel like this. She knows she shouldn't think about it but deep down inside, something stirs within Maya. She wants him to touch her, to posses her.

"I always thought Maya was the name of a beautiful flower," Mohinder murmurs into her ear. His voice is like cool water flowing over rocks, like delicate bells chiming in harmony. He brushes a lock of shiny black hair off her neck and kisses her on the shoulder. She tastes of lavender, causing him to inhale deeply and explore the rest of her skin.

His mouth hits a sensitive spot for Maya, who closes her eyes and moans softly. The stubble from his chin grazes her skin in a ticklish gesture. It felt so good…_too_ good to be wrong. The touch of his lips makes her melt and stir inside. She presses her palms to the glass in an attempt to steady herself but then thinks otherwise. Maya brings her hands behind her head and touches his head. The curls are soft and silky to the touch. They beckon Maya to be caressed and she complies, sliding her hands around Mohinder's head to the nape of his neck.

"You are like a flower," he whispers against her throat. "So soft…so exquisite.." Mohinder's fingers tilt her chin up to his face and this time the kiss is long and full on her mouth. His tongue swiftly darts across her lips in a request for something more intimate. Mohinder knows the game is won when Maya's knees weaken and she slumps against him, helpless and hungry.

Somewhere in the presence of the kiss, Mohinder remembers to wrap his arms around Maya and carry her to the bedroom. Her arms are still twined around his neck and she clings to him passionately. Maya only lets go when she feels the doctor place her gently onto the bed. He looks down at her all pink and flushed against the pristine white sheets. Maya's fingers are curled into her hands which rest on either side of her head. Her deep brown eyes glisten with passion.

"We, we cannot," she protests softly. Mohinder kneels on the bed beside her.

"Why not?" he inquires, trailing a finger down her arm. Sparks shiver in her blood. She wants more.

"I…I do not know," Maya responds. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with every breath; wanting, lingering.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." A strong arm snakes around Maya's waist and turns her over onto her back. The fingers deftly draw the zipper of her dress down in a faint hiss. She feels the cool air whistling on her bare skin. His curls brush against the small of her back as he plants kiss after kiss up and down her spine.

"Trust me, I'm a doctor," he teased her lightly. "I know everything about people."

She watched in spellbound fascination as he unbuttons his shirt and draws it off. His warm brown skin glows in the light and the muscles of his chest ripple for her to see. Maya's hands roam from his broad shoulders down to his torso in fascination. He is clearly enchanting and the heat in his skin is thrilling to her touch. She wants to sculpt his body with her hands, to learn every inch of this fascinating body.

Mohinder unbuckles his belt and draws down his pants revealing slim taut hips. Maya helps him tug them off and toss them aside. They both lay back down on the bed and are lost in each other's embraces and kisses. She feels herself rising and falling with his movements, melting against him and gliding with him. She arches her back and moans deeply from the thrilling pleasure.

There's nothing else in Mohinder's mind for the moment. DNA samples, lists of muscles and nerve cells, the names of constellations in the universe all blacken out. The scientist shuts down while the man emerges for the night and revels in the beauty and pleasure of this woman and her body. It's a rare moment in time when he can pour out his essence and reshape himself, only to rise anew and be refreshed for the next day. Mohinder knows that to deny his instincts as a human being is a futile effort. He is a man and he has wants and needs. It is only natural to obey desires and fulfill them.

He buries his fingers in Maya's hair and continues his kisses from her collarbone down to the soft curve of her stomach. With every fiber of his body throbbing in passion, Mohinder presses himself into Maya.

A-A-A

The hot sun rises up the next morning and flashes across the sky. It streams through the windows and filters into Mohinder's eyes. He rubs the sleep away and blinks twice. The fractured red digits on his clock read 7:30 AM. For him, that's a ridiculous amount of time to be oversleeping. But it was a well-deserved break.

Mohinder glances at Maya, who lies beside him like a nymph. Her graceful figure is wrapped in the white linen sheets that outline her graceful body. Her lips are formed into a smile of happiness. Mohinder wants to stay next to her but his body is already restless. He slides off the bed and pulls on a cotton robe.

He walks over to the window and admires the clear azure sky before him. Very soon he'll be having a hot shower and light breakfast. He hopes Maya will join him. Then he'll need to call Gabriel away and out of bed (while Elle sleeps in until noon) to ask for status updates. Gabriel's next assignment is in Texas where reports are circulating about a 16 year old girl who escaped from a fire. Mohinder will probably be spending the rest of the day in his study until his evening flight to Tokyo. He ponders about the mysteries of life and wonders what new surprises await him that day.

Some floors below, Gabriel and Elle are still sleeping peacefully and wrapped up in each others arms.

Alejandro will gradually come around from a half-drunk coma in the lounge and wonder about the new pocketful of money that he mysteriously won last night.

Matt will come around and find himself in the Training Room, forced to fight for his life against Eden and Knox.

Molly will wake up and begin to weep when she realizes that the doctor lied and the drug in her body is making her weak and confused.

President Nathan Petrelli will begin working on his next public speech which says that Dr. Mohinder Suresh is the most suitable candidate for Surgeon General.

Peter Petrelli will still be sleeping underground while birds and flowers breathe over his tomb in the cemetery.

Claire Bennett and Hiro Nakamura will find their ordinary lives disrupted and taking unusual turns in the near future.

All around the world, people will be moving, talking, breathing, and walking. Some of them may suspect that there is something strange afoot. Others will know of their secretive abilities and attempt to hide them. Others may flitter by, too wrapped up in their own silly lives to care.

For those who need help, they will be desperately seeking answers and guidance. They need only inquire for Mohinder and he will appear with his army of resources and knowledge. For him, knowledge is power and he is a god.

He folds his arms across his chest and smiles out at the sun. Today is going to be a very good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I added this chapter as an afterthought for those that want an uplifting message or more satisfied ending. But if you want to keep Mohinder in his evil little world *giggles and rubs hands together gleefully* then stop right here and don't read on ahead.

A-A-A

The flight to Tokyo is long and uneventful.

Mohinder is slightly bored but hardly indisposed. He reclines back in his leather bound seat, casually sipping from a glass of lemon-infused water. The waitress, a slim thing with dark hair wound into a glossy bun, glides by in a red uniform too tight around the backside. Mohinder flicks his eyes towards her rear without moving his head. The interest is short lived. It's a fine part of her anatomy but she looks too bony around the hips to be of any more amusement to him. A pity he had to leave Maya still sleeping but he was running on a tight schedule and had to speak to Gabriel briefly on the cell phone before boarding his private jet.

The stewardess bends over his table with a smile of sparkling white teeth out of lush red lips. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Dr. Suresh?"

"Ask Ari if he can find any classical music in the area."

"Of course, sir." She turns around and her backside wiggles against the fabric of her tight skirt when she walks towards the cockpit. She must be very insecure to have to sew herself up into that dress, Mohinder tutts to himself.

There is a slight crackle from the cockpit and a thick deep voice blares from the speakers.

"_The doctor would like some music_?" Ari's voice rumbles. "_I can pick up Chopin. It's Grand Valse, very nice. Being broadcast from over Shai Ben City_."

Mohinder waves a hand in the air although there is no one to see him approve of the command. "That would be fine. Thank you, Commander Ben-Ami."

No sooner does the cockpit signal die away does the cheery melody of piano music start wafting through the cabin. Mohinder leans back and closes his eyes to enjoy the music.

Ben-Ami may be an ex-Mossad agent with a reputation for catching the ladies off guard. But he's a damn good pilot and resourceful to Mohinder. His bloodline to Gitelman has given Ben Ami the wonderful knack for picking up radio signals. Ari says it helps him in crowded bars when he detest the music but he favorite sound is flying planes high above the noise and chatter of cities.

Mohinder doesn't mind at all. He taps his glass with a finger and the stewardess rushes over to refill it. The merry strings from Chopin's melody are sweet and the music seems to dance around Mohinder while the sun flicks in and out of passing clouds.

If you're going to be crammed into a metal can and sent blasting thousands of miles above the ground, you might as well do it in style.

A-A-A

Two men in business suits are waiting when the jet lands on a concrete strip on the outskirts of Tokyo. The long lean face of Ari Ben-Ami waves from the cockpit and he draws the plane to a smooth graceful landing on the strip. _"All clear, Doctor. We are in Japan, safe and sound."_

"Excellent."

Ari grins, revealing rows of fine even teeth. It's a fine contrast to his olive complexion and slick black hair. He hopes the stewardess will notice him. And she does, with a flirting wink as soon as Dr. Suresh retains his single briefcase and descends from the plane down to the concrete path.

There is a brief moment of handshakes and then Mohinder is in the car and zooming into the heart of Tokyo.

A-A-A

High above the bustling noise of the city, the great Kaito Nakamura stands behind his desk with his hands folded in front of him. Mohinder gives a deep bow of respect to Kaito and another bow to the pretty woman, no doubt his daughter.

He knows that the younger Nakamura has been branded an outcast of society and disassociated himself with his father. It's a black stain on the Nakamura dynasty to know young Hiro is now only whispered among the puny peasants of society as a "renegade". But authority calls him a terrorist and so stories have filtered out that a sword-welding fanatic has wrecked havoc among innocents and must be stopped at all cost.

Naturally, Mohinder is thrilled at the prospect of coming face to face with a man of such popularity. And so a fascinating afternoon unfolds as he exchanges comments with Nakamura-san and is cautious not to mention his "wayward son" whatsoever.

And yet Mohinder is slightly concerned. Because from the rumors he's heard, people like Hiro Nakamura pose a great threat to the future of Primatech and everything that Mohinder has worked for. Therefore he must be extra cautious to gain Kaito's trust and establish yet another fortress of security around the genetic research that he has painstakingly worked in these past 10 years.

A-A-A

As the sun slinks down in the sky, the city of Tokyo flares to life in a blaze of pink and blue electricity. People are out in the streets and whirled up in the drinks, the throbbing music, and the ever flashing lights of advertisements and movies.

But a swift elevator permits Mohinder to rise above the noise and pulsing lights to his private sanctuary of bliss and silence.

The Golden Pearl Hotel is his favorite place of choice in Tokyo. Mohinder slides his key into the lock and opens the door to his private suite. He likes the simplicity of this elegance, the straight lines of décor and the small delicate flowers on the table. There's already a tray for him on the table with porcelain and a pot of hot water waiting to be poured out. But he stops when he sees something brightly-colored lying on the bed.

He reaches out and touches the item, only to have the silken fabric of a dress slide through his fingers.

Then he hears the sound of water rushing form the bathroom and the strains of a Latin melody. _"Mi flor pequeña bonita, mi amigo, viene y canta conmigo_," hums the voice in a low throbbing chant.

Mohinder opens his briefcase and takes out his gun. It's a small silver piece that's deadly and fast. Four years of pistols training at Cambridge and Company combat practice has kept Mohinder's aim and eye at light speed. Not that he likes resorting to violence but it is often necessary.

He keeps the gun close to his body and reaches for the doorknob. There is a dull murmur from inside where the person continues to sing. In a flash of movement, he barges into the bathroom and aims the gun at the shower. The glass is frosted but he can see the outline of a woman's body. The steam rolls off her sensual curves as the water beats down on her head.

Maya

She sees someone through the glass and shuts off the water. Maya opens the door to the shower and her body freezes up. She looks more puzzled and embarrassed than afraid of Mohinder. Her fine eyebrows arch up when she sees the glint of the gun aimed at her belly. Maya backs against the wall of the shower and tries to cover her breasts with her arms. As if it she could defend herself against him.

Mohinder is too professional to be put off by the presence of a naked woman in his shower, even this luscious Amazon with large dark eyes and water droplets sparkling on her neck.

Maya tilts her head to one side and carefully draws a lock of wet hair behind her head. The gesture is shy yet seductive.

"Forgive me. The manager downstairs let me in," she replies. She reaches for a towel on the rack and begins to wrap just above her breasts until she's at least somewhat modest.

"How did you find me?" Mohinder demands.

"Ms. Bishop told me where you went."

_Damn you Elle_, Mohinder curses to himself. He's going to have a word or two with that blonde lightning rod when he gets back to Las Vegas.

Maya looks at his face; passive, contemplating. The gun still in his hand. She looks sheepish and a bit hurt. "You did not want me here?"

She watches him wave the gun back and forth in a toying gesture.

It's not that Mohinder didn't enjoy his romp with her last night. It's that he finds women to be complicated ever since his fiasco with Mirah. Their relationship dissolved into a heated battle of tears, shouts, and an unwanted baby. She left him with a slap across the face and a storm of curses before walking out of his life.

Since then, Mohinder prefers to keep things as hygienic and disposable as possible.

Nevertheless, Maya_** is**_ here. In his shower. Looking very sweet and smelling of jasmine flower.

She doesn't strike him as the type to turn her back on him as Mirah once did or shake off his caresses like Eden. And truth be told, Maya is looking at him with such pleading and yearning that it pleases Mohinder to know he has her enthralled in his power. It makes him know that he's doing a good job.

"You seem interested in knowing more about me," he says at last. He puts down the gun and begins to unbutton his shirt.

"I am," she murmurs, watching him advance towards her like a sleek panther prowling towards its dinner.

Slowly, Mohinder backs Maya into the shower and draws the door behind them. He turns on the knob and a rush of fresh warm water pours over them. Maya watches the drops of water that seem to slide seductively down his warm brown muscles, taking pains to flow into the curves of his chest and arms.

"As a scientist, I study many things." He plants his arms on the wall, one on either side of Maya so she is trapped between the tiles and himself. The shower of water had caused her towel to become soaked so he reaches out and very easily tugs it off her. Now they're both wet and basking in each others' beauty.

"Here's your private lesson in anatomy," he purrs into her ear. "Auricle." His warm tongue touches the lobe of her ear and Maya shivers with pleasure. The steady rain of the shower seems to heighten the game, making his hands slide smoothly up and down her body.

"Medial nerves," Mohinder goes on. His fingers are slim, long, and elegant as they trace Maya's collarbone before moving further down and cupping her breasts. He bends closer and applies kisses and teeth along her neck, moving slowly and deliberately. She looks up at the ceiling, mewling softly like a kitten and revealing in the touch of his mouth fondling her skin. He nips at her, just enough to tickle but not hurt her.

"They supply impulses to muscles in the forearms." So saying, he wraps his arms around Maya and pulls her against his own body, now wet with water and throbbing with passion. The curls in his hair are gone and now it's slicked back off his head revealing the hunger in his eyes.

"….and to the muscles and skin of the hands." He takes her hand into his and lightly kisses each finger, one by one. Then he puts her finger into his mouth and begins to suck on it, gently and pulling it to the end. She likes the way his mouth feels and his tongue dances on her skin.

A-A-A

When they're done studying anatomy, Mohinder scoops Maya up into his arms and carries her into the bedroom. He's not ready to get dressed yet and so he orders Maya to lie down on her stomach. Mohinder takes some of the lotion on the table and begins to rub it into the skin of her back. Then they take turns and Maya rubs his shoulders, arms, back, and legs with the lotion. He didn't realize how stiff he was after such a long trip but feeling Maya's hands on his body, massaging his muscles in long elegant strokes, is a pleasant surprise.

When they are dry, smooth, and soft, Maya and Mohinder lie side by side on the bed and gaze into each other's eyes.

_Eve and Adam_, he thinks.

They make a very pretty picture although some prudes would ask them to put on clothes after two and a half hours. No wonder Mohinder feels so exposed with nothing but air and Maya touching his skin. He's nearly forgotten what it means to be vulnerable.

"I'll be in Tokyo for the rest of the week," he informs Maya while tracing the curve of her shoulder. "I want you to go to Milan and wait for me there."

"Can't I stay here?"

"No."

She opens her mouth to protest but Mohinder merely lays a hand on her mouth, silencing her. "I'll call for you when I'm ready. I don't want to vex you when I'm in a bad mood."

"You could never be in a bad mood," Maya insists, kissing him on the lips. Her hair smells wonderful after the shower and she deepens the kiss while Mohinder pulls her on top of him.

A-A-A

Maya is fast asleep again while Mohinder watches her chest rise and fall with every breath. He has to admit that he's enjoyed the surprise escapade very much. If Maya can continue please him like this, she'll make an ideal mistress for him. (And Eden won't have to worry so much). If Maya won't comply to his orders, he'll just have to remind her about her unstable abilities and how only he can save her from damnation.

He rolls over on his back and looks at the ceiling. Diamonds? Pearls? He saw an exquisite ruby pendant in New York City some weeks ago, a necklace with a golden clasp and tiny white diamonds surrounding a dazzling blood-red stone. The fiery glow of the gem would be perfect against Maya's throat. He'll have to phone up his contacts and ask them to--

His cell phone goes off. "Emergency at Nakamura Headquarters," says Gabriel.

Mohinder snaps up. "What?"

"I just got a tip."

He nearly jumps into his clothes and after scribbling a hasty note, leaves Maya there.

The door shuts. Maya stirs. Ten minutes later, she wakes and finds her lover is gone.

Maya reaches for the phone and dials a number. A man's voice comes through the other end.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes."

"Is he coming here?"

"I think so."

"You did very well, Herrera."

"I am still sorry to deceive him," she confesses. "He makes me feel…alive."

"So do cobras. Until they bite."

A-A-A

When Mohinder arrives at Nakamura Industries, he notices the building is empty. No one is in the lobby, no security guards.

_Damn that bitch_, he thinks to himself. Maya is going to taste more than his tongue when he gets to Milan.

He takes out his gun and climbs the stairs. When he gets to the last floor he realizes how strange the building looks at nighttime with everyone gone. It's flooded in pale blue lighting that casts long shadows across the walls. And as Mohinder walks towards the private chambers of Kaito Nakamura, he can't help but wonder if he's walking inside a dream. At least he approaches the last doors and pushes them open.

A man is sitting at Kaito's desk. His dark hair is slicked back into a ponytail and a small goatee graces his chin. He wears a simple but effective black combat uniform and Mohinder notices the handle of a sword sticking out from behind his shoulder.

"Good evening." The man gives a slight nod to Mohinder. The geneticist can see it's going to be a battle of composure and decides to keep his ground.

"You must be the legendary Hiro Nakamura. I am honored," he says with a deep suave bow.

"And you must be the world renowned Doctor Mohinder Suresh," speaks Hiro out of smooth lips." I must confess that I cannot honor you but I am aware of the full scope of your power."

"You are mistaken, Nakamura. I have no powers—unlike you."

"A power based on DNA manipulation is nothing compared to the power of domination and exploiting others for personal use."

"Ah, you must think me as a fascist," Mohinder tutts.

"Oh no, only a little less than a monster," Hiro dotes back.

Mohinder has to admit, the renegade _is_ good with words. But he keeps his gun in front of him. It will take Hiro Nakamura a matter of seconds to slice Mohinder from navel to nose, but Mohinder has never missed a target. This little verbal dance between them is getting interesting. He'd hate to let it slide by so quickly.

Mohinder chooses his words carefully, hoping to pierce the man's ego and wound him. "Your father must be sorely disappointed to know his only son and heir has been branded a terrorist and fanatic by the country."

A lesser man would flinch from the insult. But Hiro's face remains passive and calm, his lips parted into the faintest but noticeable smile. He looks like Buddha.

"I am not here to look for a fight, Dr. Suresh. You are too dangerous to meet in combat and I would easily be killed."

"You know your adversaries, Nakamura-san. I congratulate you on your wisdom." Mohinder still has the pistol aimed at Hiro's head.

"Will you consider an offer?"

"That depends on the offer."

"Half an hour of your time. No weapons." Saying so, Hiro removes the sword from his back and places it on the table. "In the next thirty minutes I will use my powers for you to observe and I promise you that I will not attempt to injure you in any way."

"On the condition…"

"On the condition that _you_ disarm yourself and agree not to injure _me_ in the next thirty minutes."

Mohinder ponders this for a moment. Something is afoot, something he must have overlooked. And inside, he silently berates himself for being so blinded. And yet he's also exhilarated at the prospect that Hiro has to offer. If his sources are correct, then Mohinder knows the man before him posses a unique ability to bend the space-time continuum. Such is a power beyond mortal reach but has found its way into the hands of the young Hiro Nakamura.

"And at the end of thirty minutes?"

"I will return us both safely here and we may take up our arms and face in combat, if you so wish it."

"I would prefer it if you come back to Primatech with me," Mohinder says in his most charismatic voice. "Your skills would surely be praised among our department."

"I will consider your offer after thirty minutes. Please remove your gun."

Based on previous experiences, Mohinder knows that Hiro is not lying. He shrugs and lays the gun on the table next to the sword.

Nakamura comes to Mohinder and places a hand on his shoulder. "Hold still. This will feel odd for a moment."

The ground ripples beneath them. Mohinder feels a rush of wind through his hair, the world spinning before his eyes. He wonders if this is how teleporting always feels and if sends the blood rushing into your head.

And then….no sooner does it start….

It stops.

A-A-A

Mohinder blinks and realizes the teleportation must have worked after all. They're now inside a dimly lit room separated from another room by a door of glass and wood. The door is opened a slight crack so they can see inside.

"Remember, we must not speak. It will ruin what I have to show you," cautions Hiro.

"Agreed." Mohinder is too interested to protest so he glances through the small crack along with Hiro and waits for the charade to play out.

They must be inside some urban apartment. The place has a somewhat cluttered feeling with stacks of books lying everywhere and crayons sprawled across the table. The rug is slightly threadbare although the desk and chairs look familiar. Didn't he have furniture like that in Chennai? Why, that's his father's old bronze elephant lying on the desk!

Another door opens and someone walks in. Mohinder's face doesn't change but Hiro watches the eyes of the geneticist blaze with astonishment to see nothing less than his doppelganger in the other room.

The new Mohinder who stands on the other side of the apartment looks somewhat disheveled and tangled. His jawline is overcast with a faint blue shadow from the stubble on his chin. He probably hasn't shaved in a few days. His clothes are somewhat rumpled too; the tan pants are scrunched up around the legs and the cotton green shirt faded from washing.

Mohinder frowns to himself. What's he doing in such a messy state? And where's the maid?

The other Mohinder, while looking more like an exhausted tourist than a professional geneticist, has a surprisingly calm look on his face. He walks over to the sink which is stacked with dirty dishes…and begins washing them! He smiles to himself and hums a familiar tune from India.

"Mohinder?" a child's voice feebly comes from the other room.

He drops the dishtowel and sees someone in the doorway. Molly is there in a cotton nightdress with a floral print. Her forehead is damp and she is rubbing one eye with her fist.

"I had a bad dream," she whimpers. The unkempt Mohinder comes to her side and wraps his arms around her protectively.

"Shhhh, it's all right, Molly," he soothes her. Mohinder and Hiro watch the doppelganger carry Molly to the sofa and sit her down. "The boogeyman again?"

"No. It was just very scary. I was running around a lot of dark trees and I couldn't find you or Matt."

He cradles her head to his chest and begins stroking her hair. "Don't worry, Molly. We're not going anywhere."

A sharp knock at the door makes them both jump. Molly's face goes white. "He's here," she whispers in fear. "The boogeyman."

"Now let's not be hasty," Mohinder assures her. But there is a note of concern in his voice. He takes a broom from the corner and advances towards the door with caution.

From behind the door, Mohinder resists the urge to sneer or snicker. Imagine trying to fend off an attacker with a household appliance! He silently regrets leaving his pistol behind in Nakamura Industries.

"Who is it?" Mohinder asks.

"Claire Bennett," comes a voice from behind the door. Relief floods the doppelganger's face and he opens the door up.

There in the hallway stands a blonde-haired teenager clutching a backpack in her hand. She is dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit that almost blends her into the darkness of the hallway. She takes a step forward and the light from inside the apartment casts a glow on her face. She'd be pretty with her big blue eyes and yellow hair but she too looks flustered and upset to care. Her forehead is scrunched up and her lower lip sticks out in a pout.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

The doppelganger looks surprise but his voice is kind and inviting. "Of course, Claire."

She stalks into the apartment, drops her bag on the floor, and nearly collapses into a chair at the kitchen table with exhaustion. Molly looks on with interest from the sofa while pulling an old afghan up to her chin and leaning against the pillows.

"It's my dad," Claire beings to fume. "He's so strict all the time! It's '_stay home Claire'_ and '_look out Claire_' and '_listen to me Claire'_. It's driving me crazy!" She bangs a hand on the table in frustration while Mohinder looks on.

"And meanwhile, everyone in my school is acting like a creep."

"Surely not everyone. The entire population would be overrun with creeps," Mohinder suggests.

The light humor brightens up Claire's face for a brief moment. Then the shadow is cast back over her young brow. She stares back at the table. "Anyway, I got into a fight with my dad and was sent to my room. So I took a bus and ended up here."

"Wait a minute…Noah doesn't know you're gone?" Mohinder asks with concern.

"No."

"Your parents will be worried," he says softly as he reaches for the phone. "I should call them."

"Let them worry!" Claire brushes her golden mane off her shoulders impatiently. "I just needed to get out and talk to someone else for a change."

This comment causes Mohinder to keep the phone in hand but he doesn't dial the number.

"Well," Mohinder rubs a hand through his tangled curls and looks a bit sheepish. "I'm not a professional in family matters but I do know that a cup of tea can smooth things out. Would you like some?"

Claire looks almost grateful for the offer and even more relieved when Mohinder puts the phone down without even calling her parents.

Mohinder asks Molly to get out the cookie jar and the little girl complies eagerly, hoping to sneak in another gingersnap or two for herself. Meanwhile, Mohinder fills the brass kettle with water and brings it to a boil on the stove. He is about to reach for the tea when he pauses for a moment and wisely selects the hot chocolate tin from a lower shelf with a knowing smile.

Mohinder brings two mugs of hot chocolate to the table for Molly and Claire and a traditional chai tea for himself. Claire takes a gulp of the hot chocolate and the rich sweetness seems to seep into her adolescent soul, soothing it like a magical remedy.

"I know from working with your father that he is a complicated man," Mohinder says as he stirs his tea with a spoon.

"Noah Bennett follows his own codes and ethics. He will not consent or compromise with another person's interests if they conflict with his own. But as a father, he does have your best interest in mind." He looks up for a minute and his dark eyes are soft with emotion. "Sometimes I wish my own father was more like that."

Claire stops venting in her own frustrations long enough to look at him. "What was your dad like?"

"He was brilliant. Passionate, creative, and uncompromising in his beliefs." Mohinder pauses to take a sip of tea. "I wanted so much to be like him and work by his side in his research. But at some point in our lives he pushed me away. He didn't want me meddling into his work. And since then, we drifted apart. It was like that until the day he died."

Claire looks down into her mug. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"It's not your fault. But I do believe that we may never know everything about our parents. They're like the roots of the tree, always embedded deeper in the ground than we ever imagine. And no matter how deep we dig, they still go deeper."

"Did you father keep things from you?" asks Claire.

"Yes. And it wasn't until after he died that I realized he was trying to protect me from danger. If only I would have known, I wouldn't have been so angry at him."

His words are beginning to make an impression on the young woman. Claire's lower lip begins to tremble. "Will I ever die?"

Mohinder studies her face, so young and sweet and full of life. It's a question that most teenagers won't even address but Claire asks with solemnity and conviction.

"I don't want to live forever," Claire blurts out.

"With your condition I think that it may be your only choice," he says softly. "I'm very sorry, but that's the truth."

"That scares me a little," Claire admits feebly. She cradles her hot chocolate in her hands. "Everyone around me will die one day and I'll have to go on living. Even my dad can't protect me forever. So why does he try so hard?"

"As your father, he may see it as his ongoing responsibility for the rest of his life."

"That makes no sense, Dr. Suresh," Claire putts him off.

Mohinder looks at Molly who has already polished off her hot chocolate and is lying comfortably on the sofa, snuggled up in the old afghan. Something stirs inside of him and it gives him the inspiration to continue speaking.

"Love is a complicated emotion, Claire. It confuses us and blinds our judgment but we can't live without it. We will risk our happiness, security, and our lives for those we care about." He leans closer to her. "Don't you feel the same way about your family?"

"Well, some days I'd like to push Lyle's head into the toilet," Claire mutters. It causes Mohinder to chuckle softly and makes Claire go on. "But yeah, I guess I do care about them after all…though my dad will ground me for life after this."

"I highly doubt that," Mohinder smiles.

It's taken the edge off things and the next ten minutes lapses into a conversation of leisure. Claire admits the pettiness of the snobs in her school and Mohinder listens with politeness, even sees interested in the ridiculous nuances of an American public high school fight up the social ladder.

"I'm so glad I could come here and just be myself," Claire admits. She munches a cookie and glances around the apartment, so cramped but alive in contrast to her mother's bright sparkling kitchen. "Peter was right when he said to trust you."

"Me?" Mohinder lifts one eyebrow in surprise. "I'm flattered to know that but I haven't accomplished enough in my life to be in the right."

"No way," Claire defends her uncle proudly. "Peter knows people better than they know themselves. And if it's good enough for him then it's enough for me."

Some more minutes pass by peacefully. Claire ends up on the sofa with Molly and the girls are curled up under the blanket together with the lamp for reading light. This time it is Claire's turn to read _James and the Giant Peach_ aloud although she convinces Molly to read some of the words too. Mohinder takes the time to wash the mugs and sweep the kitchen floor.

Another knock is at the door and this time, a man's voice is heard from the other side. Molly is already nodding off and too tired to see if it's the Boogeyman. Claire, on the other hand, recognizes the voice and gets off the sofa. When Mohinder opens the door, he walks right in.

He's wearing a brown suit and eyebrow glasses that give him a no-nonsense look. His jawline could cut iron and there's nothing but duty in the plain hard face.

"Claire!"

He rushes in and pulls the girl into a tight embrace. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine dad," she insists. Her voice is slightly muffled against the fabric of his coat but she feels his hand run over the top of her head where he kisses her. Mohinder watches Noah Bennett release his daughter from the hug but still holds her at arm's length.

His face is searching hers for some explanation. "What on earth gave you the idea to come here?" Noah Bennett demands.

"We had cookies and hot chocolate," Molly murmurs sleepily under the afghan. Everyone looks at the little girl whose nightmares are now gone and restored with pleasant dreams and hot chocolate.

"It was good. And Claire read to me. She's a good story teller."

Noah doesn't seem too interested in Molly's comments and fixes his attention back on Claire. "Don't you _ever_ do that again, do you hear me? Your mother was very worried about you. She wanted to call the cops and I was about to call the Petrellis—"

"No dad, please don't call them," Claire begged. "Everything is all right now and we don't have to make anyone else worry. Can't we just go home now?"

Noah Bennett looks into her face that pleads for a moment of peace and silence. At last, the Company man decides to relent. He exhales and nods. "All right. We'll go home, Claire Bear."

He helps his daughter into her parka and picks up her backpack. Noah is about to lead Claire out of the apartment when Mohinder catches him by the elbow. "Noah, can I have word with you?"

"It's late, Mohinder."

"This will just take a minute."

Noah glances at his daughter. "I'll meet you in the car in five minutes." Claire looks at Mohinder and smiles. "Thank you, Dr. Suresh."

"It's just Mohinder, Claire. And you're welcome to come back any time you want."

"'Night Claire Bear," Molly sings softly from the sofa. Mohinder would smile if he didn't have Noah Bennett glaring at him like a falcon. He waits until Claire is in the elevator to address the man before him.

Mohinder rolls up his sleeves which are wet with dish water and folds his arms across his chest. "Claire thinks you don't trust her."

"Well I don't," Noah retorts. "She's still a child..._**my**_ child."

"Yes, but a growing one, Noah. If you continue to keep her enclosed then Claire won't ever learn to fend for herself!"

Noah tilts his head upward and the glasses throw a harsh reflection onto Mohinder's face. "Is that what she came here to do? To tell the doctor about her big bad daddy who keeps her locked up in a tower?"

"I understand and respect your duties as a father to look out for her," Mohinder responds calmly. "But you're not going to be around forever, Noah. Who will look after Claire when you're gone? The Petrellis will do their best but no one will replace you in her eyes. You need to prepare her because one day, sooner or later, you'll be gone. Claire needs to be ready for that day."

Noah doesn't say anything. There's nothing to discuss in this matter and no reason for him to start a list of options in favor of his choice. He's about to leave but Mohinder has one last piece of sound advice for him.

"Talk to her, Noah. She needs her father to be a friend as much as a protector."

His expression doesn't change although he keeps one hand in the doorway. "Since when did you become the local shrink?"

Mohinder says nothing. He just takes the insult and goes back to washing dishes.

"I mean look at you, Suresh." Noah waves a hand around the room.

"You're playing the household mother, riding the subway on Sundays, taking care of a kid," Noah gestures to Molly who is sleeping happily on the sofa. "You should really come work for us. Angela Petrelli got back the test results and you're the best marksman by your shooting range scores. As a company agent you could-"

"No."

The response is soft but audible; gentle but firm. Mohinder looks at Noah Bennett and shakes his head. "I won't compromise my judgment or conscience by bending to your Company's rules."

"You're afraid of becoming like me?"

"I have my reasons. My mind is made up."

Noah shrugs. He can't force Mohinder into serving them. Sometimes even a softy like Dr. Suresh can be stubborn as a rock. "Suit yourself," he shrugs.

"Noah….just listen to Claire. Even if you two talk about the smallest and most trivial things, it could mean the world to her. So just listen to her…and maybe she won't run off anymore."

"I'll keep that in mind." With one final glance at the geneticist, Noah Bennett closes the door behind him tightly.

Mohinder sighs and shakes his head yet he can't help but smile to himself. He glances up at the clock and realizes how late it is. He gathers the sleeping Molly up in his arms and carries her to the bedroom.

A-A-A

There is another flash of light and they're back in Nakamura Industries.

Hiro faces Mohinder. And as he watches the brow wrinkle in frustration and the dark eyes flash with fire, Hiro knows he has managed to do something that few people can do: make Mohinder Suresh very angry.

"You're a fine specimen of idiotic fanaticism and sentimental nonsense," Mohinder says in a frigid tone. "Do you intend to make a mockery of me by showing me that…that…_**illusion**_?"

"It's you."

"That is _not_ me," he bites his words. "It is a completely irrational and illogical scenario. Do you think that I would compensate my status and intelligence to live in a cheap Brooklyn flat raising Molly in my care—obviously on a limited salary—and play Dr. Freud to a spoiled teenager? To be put down and ridiculed by another man who thinks he holds some superior status over my own?"

"Do you remember finding a butterfly in your father's garden when you were seven years old?" Hiro inquires Mohinder. "You caught it, pinned it to a piece of cardboard, and after it died you showed it off to you father Chandra Suresh."

"What on earth does that have to do with all of this nonsense?" snaps Mohinder.

"In an alternative world, you chose not to endanger a delicate creature or damage its natural beauty. So the Mohinder of _that_ world let the butterfly go free. Then he went into the library to read books.

"I fail to see the value behind comparing parallel worlds."

"Time and space could not justify the existence of two driving forces within one man's heart. Your soul was fractured and could not sustain the balance so your destiny broke into two separate ways. In this world you chose logic above emotion and reason above compassion. But in another world, you sought the eternal balance of man, God, science, and spirit."

Mohinder's lips thin irritably and he crosses his arms over his chest. "I think you're making a mockery of me."

"Your own utopia was built on the backs of people you crushed, Dr. Suresh," replies Hiro. "It is a cruel and unethical plan for the future. And you have disgraced the memory of your father."

"I _help_ people, Nakamura-san, I don't break them," Mohinder defends himself "And I can help you too."

"I think not."

Mohinder taps his arm with a finger. "And this other Mohinder of a parallel world…how does he make an income?"

"He drives a taxi cab around New York."

Hiro waited for a reaction. Mohinder suddenly burst out into laughter, a cold clear laughter laced with mockery and arrogance.

"What makes you think I'd stoop to such low circumstances? A taxi driver!?" Mohinder sneers. "I'd rather die than accept such a petty occupation."

"Then you err in judging yourself by an income as a means of sustaining yourself," Hiro murmurs. "And at least in this alternative world we witnessed, the evil you created is external and not internal. Without the proper mentoring, Gabriel Gray chose to elevate his status by himself. He emerged as a serial killer bent on executing any rivals that stood in his way."

"Rubbish. Gabriel would never betray me," Mohinder retorts. "But what do I expect to spew from the mouth of a terrorist except for lies and illogical assumptions?"

Hiro contemplates telling Mohinder about Sylar and the scientist's quest to avenge the death of a beloved father. But with a swift glance at the clock, he realizes they don't have the time to delve into such complicated matters.

"Well, this has been a very interesting evening Nakamura-san," Mohinder says at last. "It's been entertaining and enlightening but surely you didn't lure me here just to give me a freak show of what I could have become: a silly simpering incompetent twit with a talent for therapy."

"Of course not, Dr. Suresh. I am offering you a choice. You can shut down Primatech and resign your position as Surgeon General or face the consequences."

Mohinder bites his lower lip hesitantly. "And why on earth would I do that?"

"Because this world will collapse without your existence and I cannot allow you to continue."

"I think you can. Because as soon as I pull the trigger then your life won't matter anymore," Mohinder replies. He reaches for his weapon on the table.

"No second thoughts?" asks Hiro.

"No second thoughts," answers Mohinder.

The calm face of the Japanese man pulls into a smile. "No matter."

"Why not?"

Hiro points to the clock "Your time is up, Dr. Suresh."

Mohinder has the gun in hand and is ready to blow Hiro's brains out. But Hiro, even weaponless, is still the legendary hero of lore. His fist lashes out and strikes Mohinder in the chest. Fingers splay and strike into his ribcage, then retract back into a tightly-clenched fist.

Mohinder coughs and beings to choke on his own blood. He can feel the sticky salty liquid bubbling up in his mouth and trickling down his face "What… did you do?" he wheezes at Hiro. The room around him begins to grow gray and foggy as he staggers backwards.

"I short circuited your cardiovascular system. Forgive me but it is a short death. Your vital organs will shut down in approximately 30 seconds."

Mohinder sinks to his feet, his body getting heavier with every passing moment.

"It's a hand-to-hand technique only to be used in the most dire circumstances by samurai masters. Forgive me, Dr. Suresh. There was no other alternative."

Mohinder is on his hands and knees by now. His breathing is deep and gurgling with blood. He looks up at Hiro and shakes his head in disdain.

"Damn you, Nakamura," he curses between his teeth. " I could have made you a great man."

"I know," Hiro says softly.

He watches the doctor take his last breath before collapsing onto the ground. Hiro reaches over to the corpse and lays a hand on his head.

"But it is better that you become a _good_ man, Mohinder-san."

A-A-A

Hiro blinks his eyes and looks at his reflection in a Fifth Avenue window. The bloodied scene inside Nakamura Industries has vanished as if it was nothing more than a bad dream. He listens to the sights and smells of New York City.

Buzzing taxi cabs and the smell of greasy hot dogs. Tables piled with trinkets and balloons. Children ice skating in Central Park. Fuzzy blue sweater and his old shoulder-bag stuffed with comic books.

Good.

He smiles proudly and pushes his glasses back up his nose with his finger. Ando begins to chastise him about losing track of their mission and leaving his best friend along in Manhattan for the hundredth time.

Hiro doesn't mind.

At first he was concerned about the space time continuum. Time traveling was risky enough but even bending other universes out of focus could wipe out the existence of countless lives. Hiro quickly realized if alternative worlds began meshing together then the stronger one would encompass the weaker one. One world would collapse and other would survive. A world where Mohinder Suresh was feared and loathed would endure but it would be a world of bleakness and cruelty. The only alternative was to kill him and let the shift blend back into his own reality.

Hiro continues walking down the street with the same big smile on his face. It was amazing how the existence of such seemingly insignificant people held the balance of the entire world in their beings.

First the cheerleader from Texas. Than the shy nurse with hair falling into his eyes.

And now the seeker was the one keeping the world in balance. With his eyes as dark as the night and the soul of a poet breathing through his lips, Mohinder Suresh was seeker and the spiritual compass who would help them move forward towards their destinies.

Hiro watches the door to a building open and Mohinder and Molly step outside. The scientist takes a moment to make sure her scarf is wrapped securely around her neck to protect her from the chilly New York air.

"Mohinder, it's snowing!" she laughs. Molly sticks out her tongue to catch a snowflake.

Mohinder looks up and puts a hand out, watching the tiny lace-like bits of crystal land on his palm before melting into drops of water. "How wonderful," he murmurs.

"Mohinder, my friend Patty says that snowflakes are made of angels' tears and diamonds." Molly's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Is that true?"

The scientist within him wants to put such a silly idea out of Molly's head and explain the intricate details of the crystallized flakes. But the man within him knows she's still a child and deserves to dream. He is content to remark on their beauty and the angels' tears, which makes Molly happy.

Yes, Mohinder might be driving a taxi cab and wearing jeans instead of business suits every day. Yes, he might live in a small Brooklyn flat and make constant mistakes now and then. But he tries his best. He speaks his mind.

And most of all he _loves_ Molly. He truly loves the little girl with as much pride and happiness as his heart can hold.

That makes the doctor a man of great honor and respect as only Hiro Nakamura deems it worthy. And Hiro knows that sadly, many men have had that chance to gain honor and lost it in the fight against corruption and greed. At least this time Mohinder has a chance to prevail.

For that alone, Mohinder is satisfied. He looks across the street to see Hiro Nakamura clutching a large bag and waving at them. Mohinder looks back and he and Molly wave.

Hiro goes off, snowflakes swirling around him and wind whistling in his ears.

He's saved the world. Again.

END


End file.
